


Tight Pants

by lillullaby



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillullaby/pseuds/lillullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Joe should be having a fantastic time! Hot girls dressed in expensive underwear, free flowing champagne, and he gets paid to play his fucking guitar. It was the most cliche rock star moment Joe had ever experienced, and was baby Trohman’s wet dream.<br/>Instead, he wants to fucking punch something.<br/>Namely, Andy Hurley’s face. "</p><p>They're at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show, and Joe is jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight Pants

**Author's Note:**

> These boys.  
> Cuties.
> 
> (Short&Sweet)

Joe was 7 seconds away from flipping his shit. 

Because what the ever loving fuck was Andy doing?

Joe should be having a fantastic time! Hot girls dressed in expensive underwear, free flowing champagne, and he gets paid to play his fucking guitar. It was the most cliche rock star moment Joe had ever experienced, and was baby Trohman’s wet dream.  
Instead, he wants to fucking punch something.  
Namely, Andy Hurley’s face. 

It starts with his entire band going googoo over amazon women. It doesn't help that all of them are so short that they only reached the ladies' jugs. Patrick was flustered and Pete was living it up. But the worst part is Andy. 

The fuck-head is chatting with the models as they coo at his tattoos and giggle at his jokes. Joe bets they were awful. Something about Wolverine or Star Wars. He bets that these girls are just humoring Andy. (Joe would have laughed, too, though.)

Then they get dressed in these ensembles that look like Hot Topic 2009 barfed on them. Jesus, Joe can barely move, his pants are so tight. And he's supposed to play guitar? Shit. They rock the number. (Duh.) But Joe is still bitter.  
The one saving grave is that Andy is stuck behind that damn kit and isn't going anywhere- or else he'd be prancing right along with Patrick, and the crowd would eat it up (He's fucking gorgeous, these fuckers would love him. Everyone does.) Honestly, that is the last thing Joe needs right now.

Once they number is over, Joe practically runs off the stage. He wants to go home and watch Star Wars and possibly eat everything in his fridge. No such luck- they have to go to a fucking party.  
The entire band seems to get that something is up the minute they get back into the dressing room. Joe doesn't get angry often, he's in a band full of hot heads and someone needs to stay calm. Which usually works just fine, but now no one knows exactly what to do with a pissy, sulky Joe.  
Soon, they’re being whisked away to this fancy gala, and before he can even blink his band is gone, being dragged away to different corners of the party and all Joe wants to do is cry. 

Or drink. Naturally, Joe chooses the latter. 

He gets half way through his glass of wine before he has to stop. He has to pee like a fucking race-horse, but he’s still in those goddamn tight pants, and he’s not 100% he can get out of them without a small army and a shoe horn.  
He gets up to walk the numbness out of his legs, abandoning his bar stool. He immediately wishes he hadn’t turned around, though, because his vision zeroes in on Andy who’s sitting across the room, a blonde bombshell of a woman draped all over him. Joe and Andy make eye contact, and Joe feels like throwing up. 

He needs to get the fuck out of here. He’ll call for a taxi, a bus, walk- anything to not be in this room. His feet move on their own, and soon he’s back in the dressing room digging around for his clothes. He hears the door open and close behind him, and knows exactly who it is without turning around. 

“What to do you want?"

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Ah, yes. Andy’s wit. Exactly what Joe needs right now. He feels his entire face flame up uncharacteristically (not that Andy would know that it wasn't Joe's norm, because it only seemed to happen when Andy was around.)

“Fuck off, I’m going home." Joe tries shoving past Andy to get the door open, but the shorter man just grabs his arm. Andy is a strong son of a bitch, and Joe knows he doesn’t stand a chance getting out of his grip. But that doesn’t mean he won't put up a fight anyway. 

“Joe- Joe! What the hell?” Joe claws at Andy’s hand, trying to pry his wrist out. Andy just grabs his other arm, pulling him tight against his chest, “Joe, TALK to me, dude, come on-”

Joe doesn’t have any idea where it comes from. (Well, he does, but he had been ignoring his feelings for 10 years and should have better self control than this.) But, before he knows it, Joe is leaning over to crash his mouth against Andy's. Joe doesn’t even get a chance to panic, though, because Andy’s hands slide to clutch at his hips immediately and he's kissing Joe back with fervor, giving as good as he gets.  
Joe lets out a little huff of surprise, but doesn’t dare move away, afraid that if he does the spell or whatever will be broken and this will be over.  
Which is how Joe, by some grace of god, ends up making out with Andy for twenty minutes in a dressing room at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Baby Joe would have come in his pants, then died of happiness. 

extra.  
“Jesus Christ, Joe.” It comes out in a whisper, and Joe can’t even respond because **Andy**. His mouth is red and sore, his face just a little raw from the slide of Joe’s stubble, his pupils wide and heady. Joe wants to tackle him onto the nearest flat surface. 

“Do you have any idea how much I want you…?” That makes Joe start because- What? 

“Fuck, today was nuts. It took everything I had not to stare at you the whole time.” 

Andy’s hands slide from his hips down, squeezing his ass briefly. 

“These goddamn pants.” Andy grumbles, and Joe just breaks out laughing. Not a little chuckle, but full out, belly laughing. Andy just smiles up at him, a little quirk of lips, but it makes Joe feel like he’s flying. Joe leans past Andy for a minute, locking the dressing room door before attacking his mouth again.  
He might not have a small army, but Joe's pretty confident that between the two of them, Andy and Joe could get these fucking pants off.

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on Tumblr. 
> 
> I hope I did your head cannon justice!


End file.
